on spider–mothers

For years, I have welcomed any spider into my house who could make her way inside. Instead of killing them or sucking them into my vacuum cleaner, I dust around them and apologize to them if I should disturb their webbing or jostle their young. I fear some of the spiders who live here, as I suspect them of being black widows, but now that I know which boxes they live in, I avoid those boxes. Some of the spiders are jumping spiders, who are harder to track and to appFor years, I have welcomed any spider into my house who could make her way inside. Instead of killing them or sucking them into my vacuum cleaner, I dust around them and apologize to them if I should disturb their webbing or jostle their young. I fear some of the spiders who live here, as I suspect them of being black widows, but now that I know which boxes they live in, I avoid those boxes. Some of the spiders are jumping spiders, who are harder to track and to appreciate because they tend to move around a lot, eschewing the building of webs; others are grand and spindly things who vibrate on their webs upon being disturbed.

I welcome these spiders because they embody Iktomi (see drawing), a First People god who created the Earth by flinging his web over its entire surface. Iktomi also taught humankind about technology; the Internet is one of his greatest gifts. I welcome them also because I gain joy from discovering these my little house-guests sitting patiently in dusty and forgotten corners, and because they catch and eat common houseflies (which I then do not have to chase down with a flyswatter and kill myself). My spider-mothers seem to like it here; they stick around and keep recruiting more of their kin in from the outside. Whereas some people collect cats, I collect spiders, a simpler house-pet that needs neither food nor drink nor rabies-shots. Aho.

mentiri factorem fecit – 場黑麥